


RickCon'18: Tailor Rick's Companion

by PorkChop



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Conventions, F/M, Fashion & Couture, First Meetings, Flirting, rickcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 00:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorkChop/pseuds/PorkChop
Summary: The annual RickCon event is being held at the citadel, and reader has been convinced to go along to help Tailor Rick with his charity auction.This fic mainly focuses on reader meeting a few Ricks, two of them being OC's; Tailor Rick and Ice Cream Rick. This follows on from a fic I wrote a while ago based on a request from Tumblr, I would recommend reading that first for contexthere!:) I also drew both of these OC's, you can see them here:Ice Cream Rick,Tailor Rick.All the credit for this one goes to tumblr users Hoodoo12 and ricksanchezbae who came up with the idea. Hoodoo wrote her RickCon story first, and you can find the first parthere!





	1. Chapter 1

“Absolute bloody pricks.” Rick muttered, inspecting the cuff on my arm with a clear expression of distaste. “Th-that ruins the whole ensemble.” 

The stylist who had been applying my eyeshadow turned away momentarily and I took the opportunity to look down at the cuff for myself. While the wristband didn't do my outfit any favors, I wouldn't go as far as to say it was ruined. I read the neon code once more; HF-002, and tried to swallow down the sensation of disbelief. I hadn't had an awful lot of time to adjust, it'd been months since I'd heard from Rick Sanchez after receiving my custom gown in the mail, and suddenly I was here. In some strange place away from earth, entirely populated by Ricks and Mortys. I hadn't been expecting to hear from Rick ever again, but when a letter slipped through my door requesting that I visit him at my earliest convenience, I'd been too curious to ignore it. 

That's how I found myself at RickCon. Apparently, Rick hosted a number of events at the convention, including a charity clothing auction to raise money for… trunk people in need? I'd quickly learned that he was a very generous person, though only for his own benefit. When I first met him, he'd gifted me a one of a kind, custom made dress worth thousands, purely so that he could feel good about himself. He'd made no attempt to hide that the charity auction was no different. Anyway, he needed models, and for some reason he thought I'd be suitable. I'd laughed in his face at first, but when he explained the citadel to me; infinite realities and alternate versions of him all gathering in one place, I had to see it for myself. 

“I don't understand why they can't just make an exception for _me_. I assume it's because they're jealous, n-not many Rick's make a name for themselves in their original dimension. There's far too much hopping around for my liking.” He continued as the stylist returned to applying my makeup.

“Almost done, sweetie.” the stylist said almost boredly. He was another Rick, dressed in pink with the sides of his head shaved, the rest of his hair swept upwards to make for a particularly striking hairstyle. 

“I-I-I explained to them that this is a _fashion show_. I'm aware that the majority of Rick's wear the same grotty lab coat day in, day out, but surely they understand that _that_.” Tailor Rick pointed accusationally at the wristband. “Is the opposite of fashion!”

“Relax! It looks fine. Nobody will even care and anyway, this is for the uh, the… what are they? The trunk people.” I said, trying to move my face as little as possible as to not disrupt the stylist. 

“Oh, right.” He scoffed. “Of course, the trunk people.” I didn't need to see him know he was rolling his eyes. 

“All done.” The stylist said, leaning back and giving me a once over.

“Finally. W-we have about five minutes until we're starting. Cutting it a little fine, aren't we?” Rick said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the stylist. 

“I'll have you know I'm the president's personal stylist. If you want the kind of perfectionism I deliver, you need to give me more than half an hour.” The stylist quipped, turning his back on the other Rick as he bent over to gather the various brushes and makeup products on his desk. I glanced over to the tailor, raising my brows when I caught him checking out the ass on his alternate self. 

“You shouldn't need more than half an hour to paint some slap on her face. The real time consumer is teaching her how to walk, since her parents clearly didn't do a very good job-”

“Oi! I can walk just fine when I'm not tottering around on stilts!” I said defensively.

“Stilts? They're mere kitten heels.” He scoffed. I very nearly growled. My initial attraction to him had quickly disappeared with prolonged contact, at this point I couldn't understand how he'd made me so wet and flustered throughout that dress fitting. I must've been hormonal… or something. “Anyway, get up, we're starting soon.”

I rose to my feet, straightening out the dress I was wearing. I had another six lined up for me to change into throughout the course of the auction, and two Ricks lined up to help me do so. The gown I was going out in first was a lovely, deep burgundy cocktail dress. I'd questioned Rick about why he thought it was a good idea to try and flog cocktail dresses to a room full of men. Initially, he'd reminded me that it was also a room full of alcoholics, and they'd pay attention to anything with the word cocktail in it. Or course, that was his idea of a joke and the real reason was that apparently there wasn't just going to be Ricks at this convention. They often brought along any significant others they had, and some just happened to be women. 

Now that was a comforting concept and definitely gave me another reason to agree to being his model for the afternoon. At least if I was going to a Rick and Morty convention, there would be other people like me attending too, it'd give me some allies once my job was done and I'd have time to explore the convention while Rick hosted his panel; _More than just a lab coat: Style tips for the working Rick_.

“I'm going out there first to introduce the event, your Rick-sistants will send you out on cue.” He told me, taking me by the elbow and guiding me towards the entrance to the stage, where the two Rick's that'd be helping me change were standing, both of them suited up semi-formally, their hair a lot different to Tailor Rick's in that it was spiky, sticking out in all directions. 

“Oh God.” I said as I caught a glimpse through the gap in the temporarily erected wall that separated the dressing area from the main stage. I could see the crowd, and although it was no Royal Albert Hall, it was more people than I was accustomed to standing in front of. “Remind me why you chose me instead of an actual, professional model?”

“For the same reason I chose you to create a dress for. Your figure is…” he trailed off, glancing down at my chest. “You will be appreciated here more than my regular ladies.” He said, and I flushed. 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, most of the audience members ha-have no intention of buying anything.” He said, peaking out at the crowd. “Normally it's the same three Ricks buying anything, and half of the audience disappears once all the women's wear has been sold.” 

“So they're just here to ogle?” I asked, and Rick turned to smirk at me.

“Of course.” He told me. “Apart from those with Sugar Babies in need of gifts.”

“I thought this was a nice thing. You know? For charity.” I frowned, crossing my arms. 

“Oh, but it still is, isn't it? The charity will get their money, the Ricks will get their entertainment. Everyone's a winner.” 

“Except for me.” I pointed out, he turned and looked me directly in the eye.

“Quite the contrary. Now you'll have an opportunity to seek out a Rick who's willing to satisfy your cravings.” He told me, leaving me confused.

“I'm sorry?”

“You have quite the appetite for me, correct? I-I-I seem to recall you were going to ask me on a date after your dress fitting. I'm sorry that my professional ground rules prevent me from accepting, but I'm sure many of the Ricks here will have no such qualms.” He smiled politely, and my face flushed in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Appetite? Are you mad? Perhaps when we first met I was taken by your charisma and charm, but let me tell you, my appetite has been more than filled over the past few days of incessant complaining, rudeness and bossiness.” I scolded him, jabbing my finger into his chest. My words seemed to amuse him. 

“It’s time. Carry that boldness with you out on stage, my dear.” He said, and with that, he turned the corner onto the stage, and I heard him addressing the crowd and willing them to settle down. 

It was barely a minute before I was being ushered on stage. I stepped out into the open, momentarily freezing as I scanned the crowd, every face was almost identical, row after row of Ricks. I noticed a couple of other faces too, the occasional Morty, a few Summers here and there, but it was mostly Ricks. Barely a second had passed when I got ahold of myself and walked forwards. Of course, I completely forgot how to walk; well, in the way that Rick had taught me, so I simply strolled and stood at the edge of the stage with my hand clasped behind my back so nobody could see how much they were shaking. My face felt hot under all their eyes, I noticed the leering smirks from the audience members, and noticed how they whispered to each other. I made eye contact with a few of them, gaining a wink from one, and a brow wiggle from another. I found myself giggling, enjoying the attention despite the initial nerves.

Before I knew it, the dress had been sold, and I was given my cue to leave the stage and get changed. A model Rick took my place on stage, wearing a hot pink suit. I wondered about the kind of Rick that would consider buying such a loud outfit. 

“Quickly, baby. Let's get you out of th-that dress.” One of the Ricks waiting for me said, coming up behind me and unzipping the garment. The other Rick held onto my hand to keep me stable as I stepped out of my shoes. One dress was stripped off of me, and just as quickly another was being shimmied up my hips. I didn't have time to feel exposed, and the two men made me feel more than at ease with their professionalism. 

“Wow, you look fantastic in this one. This oughta fetch a g-good price.” The other told me as he buttoned up the front of it. The Rick behind me was tying up a bow in the back, pulling it taught. I glanced down at the dress, all black silk with white buttons going up the front of the bodice, sleeveless with a boat neck and a ribbon running around my waist. I felt very sophisticated wearing it. 

And fetch a good price it did. Standing out on stage, I felt a little more confident the second time around, and turned from side to side, giving the audience a three-sixty view of the dress. The numbers called out by the auctioneer just went up and up until they were in the thousands, and even though I had no idea what currency was being used, I was surprised at how much people were willing to pay for a single item of clothing. It sold for seven and a half thousand, and Rick was right when he'd said it would be the same few Ricks bidding, I only saw about four different hands going up throughout the whole thing. 

The third dress made me nervous. It was the shortest of them all, hitting at mid thigh; a lot shorter than I would usually go for. It was also practically skin tight, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination; though it had a high neckline and long sleeves, so at least I had some modesty in that department. It was navy blue with a wide white stripe going across the bust. Rick had pointed out to me that it was one of his apprentice's (coincidentally his grandson, Morty's) designs and he was only selling it to get it out of his studio; he preferred a more refined, classy style. 

I noticed his blatant eye roll when I stepped out on stage, and the room roared with wolf whistles and undeniably carnal sounding cheers. He snapped something about _reeling it in, you bunch of animals_ , to the crowd, which was mostly ignored. A Rick in the front row dressed in pastel colours, a bowtie around his neck, stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out an ear piercing whistle, and when I looked at him he blew me a kiss and called out something that sounded Spanish, I caught the phrase _bella dama_ in there somewhere. 

“Thank you, to the gentleman in pink shirt, starting us off at six hundred!” The auctioneer called, and the Rick who'd whistled to me went pale. 

“What the fuck, no! I-I-I didn't!” He quickly stammered, earning a collective howl of laughter from the entire room. 

“I'm sorry, sir, all bids are final. Anyone for seven hundred?” Was the response he got. Not a single hand in the room flew up. 

“Come on! Y-you fucking bunch of assholes, someone wants that! You're just- you're just-” He growled, glancing around the room, a few snickers could be heard. I'd never seen such a large group of people working together just to screw some guy over. It was actually quite impressive. A classic case of cutting one's nose off to spite the face, it was obvious by the dress’s reception that there would otherwise be a bidding war. 

“No? At six hundred, then. Going once, twice…” The auctioneer announced, then the hammer came down. 

“Fuck you guys!” The Rick in pink spat, crossing his arms and slamming his back against the chair. 

“Lighten up, buddy. It's for the trunk people!” Some Rick from the back called through unrestrained laughter. 

“And fuck you especially!” He retorted. I offered him an apologetic smile, feeling somewhat responsible, before I left. 

The rest of the auction went off without a hitch, and once all of the dresses were sold I was left to change back into my own clothes as the designer gear was packaged up ready to be distributed to the buyers at the end of the auction. I was tasked with helping the assistant Ricks with the packaging; each dress was wrapped up in a garment bag inscribed with Tailor Rick's logo, then folded up neatly inside a sturdy, fancy black box with magnetic clasps on the lid, which was again decorated with the logo in silver metallic foil. Also inside the box came a certificate of authenticity and a thank you letter from the charity. Finally, the box was placed inside a gift bag and a note with the dimension number of each buyer was stuck to the side, then it was taken off to a different room ready to be collected and paid for.

I waited around until the end of the auction to see Rick, only for him to bypass me and go straight into a private dressing room. I tried not to feel irritated by this; I didn't have a private dressing room, I'd had to change out in the open with at least three Ricks standing around. When he came back out, he had changed into a more casual suit; something cooler and more stylish than the traditional black and white number he'd been wearing beforehand. This suit was covered in a Paisley pattern, and it was a deep teal colour. Underneath, his shirt was black, as were his shoes and tie. He looked very chic and handsome. He approached me, straightening out his tie and adjusting his collar. 

“You did well out there, aside from the fact you walked like a baby rhinoceros.” He teased, though he was smiling. 

“Bit of an exaggeration.” I pointed out, looking him up and down and feeling extremely dowdy in my jeans and t-shirt. 

“Not at all.” He smirked, then plucked a piece of lint off my shoulder. “I have my other event in an hour, so I'm going to have to stay here to h-help prepare the room. Y-you're free to go, however.” 

“Oh? What shall I do?” I asked stupidly and he held eye contact with me for a moment before answering. 

“Well, you could always go and enjoy the convention.” He suggested with an amused tone. I rolled my eyes. 

“Why didn't I think of that?” I said sarcastically. “I mean, on my own? Just… just walk around this place?” 

“Yes. You're a big girl, aren't you? You're capable of independence?” He raised his brow. 

“Yes, it's just…” I trailed off and chewed the inside of my mouth. “It's a little daunting.”

“You'll be fine. You can't leave without me with you, so if you're worried about some other Rick trying to snatch you away, don't be.” He said all too casually.

“I wasn't worried about that… but I am now.” I furrowed my brow and stared at him, he simply chuckled in response. 

“Go, attend some of the panels, try some of the food, and if you get overwhelmed there are plenty of places for you to go and catch a breather.” He said, taking my shoulders and turning me around to push me towards the exit. 

“Okay, you have your phone with you, right?” 

“Yes. But don't try to contact me.” He said bluntly.

“But what if there's an emergency?” I asked, turning around to face him once he'd got me out the door. 

“Then I suppose that's an exception. But you'd better be dying, otherwise I-I don't want an interruption!” He rolled his eyes again. “Meet me back here in two hours. Have fun. Oh, and I put some money in your purse, g-go wild.” He added flatly, before the door was closed in my face. 

I stared at the frosted glass for a while before taking a deep breath and turning around. 

“Fuck.” I breathed, staring out at the mass of people in front of me, a sea of blue white and yellow with barely anything in between.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't know what else to do, so I followed the crowd. I allowed myself to get swept up in the sea of bodies, treading on toes and getting mine trodden on too. This area definitely seemed clothing-oriented, as I passed stalls selling t-shirts, accessories, and what seemed to be cosplay outfits. I managed to break off from the current to stop at one of the stalls. I browsed through a display of buttons, each one adorned with Rick or Morty based designs, some simply had their faces, some had little quotes or jokes, most of which flew right over my head. I supposed you had to be a Rick… I picked one up with Rick's face on with the words “wubba lubba dub dub”, whatever the hell that meant, and paid the Morty running the stall for it before attaching it to my t-shirt. I figured I should at least be wearing one piece of merchandise, considering I was at RickCon. 

I continued on through the convention center, being stopped once or twice by different Ricks asking if I'd like to exchange dimension codes. It took me until the third time to realise that this was a form of flirting, not just a polite question. I quickly stopped giving out the number on my wristband willy-nilly and prayed that nothing would come of it later. I figured I'd make the most of the strange day and snapped a few pictures with some of the more unique looking Ricks and Mortys; by the time I'd made it to the food area, my camera was filled with pictures. I had photos with a Rick that appeared to be half lizard, a Rick with two heads (and he'd kindly informed me that it wasn't all he had two of), a Morty holding a bunch of cats and a teenage Rick with an elderly Morty. 

I decided to grab myself a cup of tea and take a moment to sit down. I (literally) bumped into a Rick with a bowl cut and bucked teeth on my way over to the seating area. He apologised profusely, even though it was my fault. After making sure he was okay I asked if I could take a picture with him, to which he bashfully agreed, before I let him get on with his day. He was the first mild mannered Rick I'd met all day, and I wanted a photo for proof of his existence so next time Tailor Rick told me it was just in his nature to be rude, I could rub it in his face. 

Sitting alone at a table with my cup of tea gave me plenty of time to people watch. I still hadn't quite wrapped my head around the place, considering I'd only learned about this crazy multidimensional stuff a mere few days ago. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I even fully believed it, I was just going with the flow and ignoring the urge to pinch myself at every new Rick I set eyes on. One was coming right for me, with bulging muscles and a tank top. 

“Wh-what’s up, hot stuff? Saw you at that your lit- your little fashion show.” He said as he approached, taking a seat opposite me and giving me a charming smile. 

“Oh? I thought I recognised you.” I lied, though only out of politeness and because I didn't know what else to say. 

“Couldn't buy anything, of course. None of it'd fit me, you know? Too- too swole.” He said casually, leaning his elbows on the table in a way that accentuated his biceps. I stared for a while, keeping my expression neutral. “I keep telling the guys that run the con; get uh, get some stuff that runs in men's sizes.” He grinned. I laughed, again, mostly out of politeness. 

“So, you come every year?” I asked, and he nodded. 

“Yeah. I actually run a panel most years. Health related, obviously. This year's is on protein shakes, I came up with a new formula, i-i-it's vodka flavoured so I figured it'd be more popular this year.” He explained, and I raised my brows. So, alcohol abuse really wasn't just a Tailor Rick thing. “You should come along, there's gonna be free samples, special offers, and for you, I'll throw in a couple demonstrations.” He winked. 

“Demonstrations?” I questioned. 

“Exercise. I'll uh, I'll be doing pushups and shit, I gotta show that my shakes actually work. Plus, they'll be edu-educational. There'll be plenty of tips.”

“Oh…” I chuckled and shook my head. “Do I look like I'm into exercise?” I joked, and Rick looked my body up and down, from what he could see with the table in the way. 

“You look like you've got potential.” He concluded thoughtfully, and I didn't quite know what to make of that. 

“Is this guy bothering you?” A hand came down on the table between us, I trailed my eyes up the sleeve of the lab coat the person was wearing (which I'd quickly realised was a staple piece of most Ricks’ wardrobes) to find a lady looking down at me, raising her brow. 

“Oh, no, it's-” I started.

“Erica, baby, I didn't think you were coming this year.” Buff Rick exclaimed, gaining an eye roll from this Erica person. 

“I told you I wasn't, I-I-I was hoping I wouldn't bump into you. But uh… here we are.” She sighed. 

“Jesus, you get more and more hostile as you get older.” 

“And you get dumber and dumber, move. Gimme that seat. I need a sit down, my knees are _fucked._ ” She grumbled, and to my surprise she got her way. “All those steroids must really be messing with you, you can barely call yourself a Rick these days.”

“Steroids? Th-that's bullshit, Erica. I got these babies from hard work, discipline, and _All Rick's Protein Juice._ ” He bragged, flexing his arms. 

“Sure. I'm getting a headache; don't you have a panel to prepare for?” Erica asked dryly. Rick opened his mouth, looking ready to deny it, but paused for a second. 

“Actually, yeah. I-I should probably get on that, huh? Can I count on you to be there?” 

“I don't know, I saw a thing about Mortys writing fanfiction that seemed right up my alley.” Erica replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“I'll keep my eye out for you, Erica.” He said regardless, pointing at her as he walked backwards away from the table. He gave me a wink before turning around and disappearing into the crowds. 

“Jesus. I-I-I've met a _lot_ of Ricks in my day, and that guy?” She shook her head. “Total idiot.”

I studied the woman in front of me for a while, trying to figure out who exactly she was. Was she a Rick's sister? Someone cosplaying as a Rick? I wasn't quite sure, and even less sure about how to ask. Luckily, she must've read my confusion in my expression.

“Smile, sweet cheeks. I-I-I don't like the way you're looking at me.” She teased, pulling something out of her inside pocket. It was a flask. “Yes, I'm a Rick… of sorts. Total sausage fest in here, huh? Nice to see more of the fairer sex showing their faces here.”

“Oh! Right, yeah, I've passed maybe two or three women since I've been here.” I agreed, once again looking out over the sea of Ricks and Mortys as I had a sip of tea. Erica had a sip of her own drink; by the smell of it, some kind of hard liquor. 

“Most Ricks only bring th-their fuck buddies. Which one are you banging?” She asked. “That bodybuilder guy?” She added, raising her brow. 

“Oh, no! Not him… not any of them.” I admitted, and she laughed. 

“Right, damn it. Thought I might have someone to talk about h-how bad he was.” 

“I'm sorry?” 

“That guy. Muscles. Total fucking Neanderthal in the sack, he-he's like a sex machine and not in a good way. It's like he only knows one rhythm and speed… h-honestly I'm surprised, Ricks are usually better-” she rambled, glancing off past my head as she got absorbed in her descriptions.

“Alright, I get it.” I interrupted, chuckling. 

“Anyway, h-he's been clingy as hell ever since. I'd stay away, i-if I were you.” She advised, and I shook my head in amusement.

“Noted.”

“So, you're not boning any Ricks? That's tough. If you ever wanna taste of what we've got to offer, and uh, forget about what I just said; we don't all suck… I'm happy to pop your Sanchez cherry.” She smirked at me, and I chuckled again, a little embarrassed this time. 

“No, that's okay… Thank you. I'm perfectly happy just, ah, remaining firmly in the acquaintance zone with Ricks.” I said apologetically, offering her a little smile. “I don't know how long I'd be able to keep my sanity, you know? All of this is very overwhelming.” I gestured to the space around us, and she glanced around looking incredulous. 

“Uhh… if you don't mind me asking; you're clearly new to all this. How the fuck did you end up at RickCon if you don't really know any Ricks?” She questioned, leaning forwards on the table interestedly.

“The Rick from my dimension needed my help with something. He runs a charity auction, selling clothes. I modelled for him.” I explained, and she nodded. 

“Oh right, yeah, the fashion show thing I kept hearing wh-whispers about. I heard Ice Cream Rick got shafted in there by the whole damn room.” She laughed, shaking her head. I frowned, and so she explained. “Ice Cream Rick? Guy in the pink shirt. Uhhh… ponytail, stupid little beard?” She gestured to her chin, and it suddenly clicked.

“Ohh! I felt so guilty about that! He was saying something to me when it happened… how awkward.” I said, shaking my head and feeling my cheeks warm up. 

“I'm not surprised. Too- too many Rick's think with their dicks. That's golden.” She grinned, then took a peek at her wrist watch. “Anyway, I gotta head off. S-supposed to be meeting Morticia soon, she wants me to go to the humanoid robotics panel, she wants me to build her an anatomically correct android _friend_.” She said, using air quotes for that last word whilst rolling her eyes. I didn't question her further. 

“It was nice speaking to you, Erica. Uhh, would you mind if we got a photo together?” I asked, holding up my carera with a little smile on my face. She grinned again. 

“Of course not, doll. Bring it in.” She said, holding her arm out towards me. I stood up and she wrapped her arm around my waist as I took our photo. 

“Thank you!” I said, and she waved her hand dismissively.

“Hey uh, what's your name?” She asked, and I answered without skipping a beat. I found it funny how names just weren't exchanged naturally here, since almost everyone had the same name anyway. “Alright, nice to meet you, (y/n). Maybe we'll bump into each other again?” She said, though looking around at the amount of people here, I doubted we would. 

“Maybe. Enjoy the con!” I replied. 

“You too, sweetie.” She nodded before heading off.

After she'd gone I realised my tea had almost fallen to an unpleasant temperature, so I quickly drank up the last of it and disposed of my cup in the bin nearby. Again, I found myself with the daunting feeling of not quite knowing what to do with myself. Someone had left a booklet on a table close to me, which I recognised to be the day's itinerary along with a map of the convention center, so I picked it up and had a look through. I wasn't surprised when lot of it went completely over my head; 

_Plumbus 101: How to get the best out of yours!_

_The Flesh Curtains: Live Performance and Q and A._

_Is Jerry All That Bad? A Debate._

_Lost the Spark? An introduction to sexual cybernetic enhancements. (18+)_

_Pocket Morty Battles. Bring your best! (RickCon ‘18 cannot be held liable for loss or damages resulting from Morty battles.)_

And that wasn't even all of them, the list filled up the whole page. I stuffed the booklet in my back pocket and decided I'd simply walk through the convention until I found something interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

After wandering around the convention for a while, I was surprised at the vast array of things that were going on. I passed big rooms filled with tables where people (mostly Mortys) were playing some sort of card game, I saw stalls set up selling artwork, plushies, RickCon merchandise, and I also noticed a few more attendees that were neither Ricks nor Mortys. I smiled at them whenever they noticed me, and I felt an odd sort of connection with them; it was nice to see someone different among the masses of identical faces. 

I also noticed that some Ricks must've had celebrity status. Every now and then I'd pass a meet and greet spot, where a gaggle of people were queueing up (and sometimes not so civilly forming a crowd) to meet and take photos with one particular Rick. I passed one where there was a Rick in a hot pink lab coat and shades at the center of attention. He had someone with him too, a boy with long bleached hair wearing short-shorts and a crop top; I was shocked when I realised he was a Morty, he looked so different. I was tempted to try and meet them but looking at the queue I realised I'd be spending the rest of my time at the con standing in line, so I carried on walking. I also passed the Rick I'd bumped into earlier; the one with the bowl cut, he had a little group of women waiting to meet him. There weren't many Rick's in line to meet him, and the ones that were didn't seem very happy about it, seemingly dragged along by their female companions. I gave him a little wave as I passed, and he seemed to recognise me because he smiled widely and waved back. 

I came across a little courtyard; it was still kind of inside the convention center, just a closed off little space with plants and benches, open to the elements with no roof. I decided to pop outside for some fresh air, and when I did I was surprised to see an ice cream truck out there. I momentarily wondered how the hell it got into the confined space, but then remembered where I was. Ricks had a way of figuring things out, and teleportation was something they excelled in. The courtyard was mostly empty, just a few Mortys hanging around with ice creams, one of them was dressed in a strange costume; covered in red body paint and fake, padded muscles, with a pair of fake arms strapped to the sides of his head, and another pair under his real arms. He caught me looking at him as I tried to figure out what he was meant to be, but he didn't seem to mind and gave me a friendly smile. 

Burning curiosity led me over to the ice cream truck, as well as a sweet tooth. As I approached, I recognised the man inside, though he had his back to me as he cleaned down an ice cream spillage on the counters at the back of the truck. His pastel pink shirt and little ponytail poking out below the hat he'd adorned were a dead giveaway, and I smiled as I waited patiently for him to finish what he was doing and notice me. 

“What can I getcha?” He asked as he turned, then did a double take when he actually looked at me. He wiped down his hands with a damp cloth as he raised half of his brow, the side of his mouth turning up into a pleasantly surprised smile. “It's you.” He said. 

“And it's you.” I nodded at him with a smile, making him chuckle. 

“What's your name, sweetie?” He asked.

“(Y/n).” I said. “I don't need to ask yours. That's the nice thing about being here, names are easy to remember.” I commented.

“You put on qu-quite a show today, (y/n).” He told me and I shrugged, peering past him at the various ice cream machines and candy toppings available. 

“Did I? I thought I just stood there.” I told him honestly, laughing at myself. 

“That's all you needed to do, you got me dropping a day's takings pretty easily.” He snorted, sounded slightly irritated. He was still smiling though. 

“I'm sorry about that.” I said sheepishly, pressing my lips together and avoiding his eyes. 

“You're sorry?” He repeated. “I-i-it wasn't your fault, baby. It was that prick of an au-auctioneer.” He rolled his eyes.

“Still, I can't help but feel a tiny bit responsible.” I said.

“Don't. 's not the end of the world. I ca- I can just sell it on for a profit, considering those assholes gave it to me cheap.” He grinned, and I giggled, nodding.

“That's true, actually. Look who's laughing now.” I winked. 

“So, you uh, you looking for a new party dress by any chance?” He asked, leaning his elbows on the work surface at the edge of the window. “I can do you a pretty good deal for an original Sanchez…” 

I laughed, suddenly feeling warm due to how close he was leaning. He smelt like sugar and vanilla. My wit went out the window as I fumbled through my response. “Oh, actually I- I don't think that would really suit me. I'm more of a, uhh… I prefer longer… dresses.” my cheeks were pink with embarrassment that really had no place being there.

“I thought it suited you jus-just fine, baby.” He said, his voice lowering as he continued to lean just a few inches away from my face. The urge to step back was strong, but I was enjoying his proximity and the smell coming off of him too much to go with my instincts. 

“I really don't have hundreds of pounds to spend on a dress.” I replied, my voice quiet and meek. He licked his lips and straightened up, bracing his hands on the work surface. 

“Pounds? Ah, r-right. You're with him, from London, right?” He said, putting on a cockney accent for the word _London_.

“With him? He's from- yeah, we're from the same dimension. From London.” I nodded. 

“I th-thought you spoke funny.” He teased, that smirk of his coming back. I glared playfully at him.

“I'll have you know my parents sent me to elocution lessons as a child.” I retorted, putting on my best rendition of the Queen's English. 

“Ahh, s-so you're a little posh girl, huh? I see why that fancy Rick likes you then.”

“Oh, I don't think so. 'Like’ is pushing it, I think at this point we tolerate each other and that's a far as it goes.” I said with an eye roll, and this seemed to surprise him.

“Really? So, you uh… you aren't together?” He asked, his expression turning indifferent, casual. I gave him a suspicious smile, hesitating before answering.

“What's it to you?” I asked, and he paused, smiling at me in amusement.

“Maybe I'm looking for someone t-to take out for dinner. And _maybe_ I've got a designer dress on my hands that'd make a great gift for a first date, you know, really blow 'em out the water.” He said, and I jolted a little in surprise at his forwardness.

“Oh? Well, I-” I started, flustered.

“So d’you think your Rick would be up for it? I-I-I think the dress would really suit him.” He continued. I stared at him blankly for a moment, my mouth hanging open mid-sentence. He laughed, shaking his head. “Are you after an ice cream or what?” 

I took a moment to recover and cleared my throat. “Yes, uhh… could I have a chocolate ice cream cone with chocolate sauce and… chocolate sprinkles, please.” 

“You want any more chocolate based toppings on that? I-I-I think I can, I can probably find something else to throw on there.” He said, looking amused as he turned around to prepare it for me. 

“No, thank you.” I laughed. When he turned around with my ice cream cone in hand, I dug out a note from my purse; I had no idea what currency it was, or how much it was, but I figured it would probably cover the cost of the ice cream. He took it from me and handed back some change. “Wow. Very generous.” I raised my brows as he passed me the ice cream, it was huge. I had to lick it straight away to stop a blob of chocolate sauce from dribbling down the side. Rick watched me as I did, a deeply satisfied, lascivious smirk on his face. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, thanked him, and turned away. 

I took a seat on a nearby bench, taking a good look around the courtyard. There were four trees planted in each corner of the space; they didn't look like the trees we had on earth, they looked thinner, wiry, their branches curling around and tangling with each other in a way that made them look kind of creepy. They had little pink flowers on them, like cherry blossoms but larger, and their petals littered the ground which was covered in a mosaic design. I stared for a while, trying to work out if there was a pattern in the tiny chips of stone and what seemed to be broken beer bottles that made up the mosaic, and although it was hard to see the whole thing from the ground, I realised it might've been some sort of symbol. I'd noticed it dotted around the convention center, a letter 'R’ sitting inside a triangle-like shape, it must've been the insignia for the citadel of Ricks. 

A sliding sound caught my attention, and I looked over in time to see Ice Cream Rick shutting up his truck. He emerged from behind it, having removed his hat, and was coming over to me with a bag in his hand; I recognised it as one of the ones I'd packed earlier. I was surprised as he took a seat beside me on the bench, placing the bag at his feet as he turned to look at me. I watched him expectantly as he stared me down, a thoughtful look in his eye. 

“I uh, I'm pretty sure you got that I was _joking_ when I was talking about taking your Rick out to dinner, right? C-cause that's not exactly unheard of around here, but it's not- I don't roll like that, baby. I get sick of seeing myself in the mirror, wh-why would I wanna hang around with another one of me for extended periods of time?” He said to me, prompting an awkward silence. “I mean, Ricks are great in the sack, so I get that part. B-b-but, ah…” He trailed off, looking at me with a wince. He seemed embarrassed, like he didn't know what to say. 

“That's none of my business, you don't have to explain yourself.” I shook my head and offered him a polite smile. 

“I wanna take you out.” He said bluntly. “I-I-I know it's weird cause you barely know me, but you seem nice and I think it could be fun.” 

“Oh… right.” I stared, wide eyed at him. Two thoughts crossed my mind; first, I wanted to say yes. He was cute, seemed nice enough, and he was forward. I liked forwardness. But two; for all I knew he could be exactly like the Rick from my dimension. He was technically the same person, right? And the longer I spent with my Rick, the more I realised how incompatible we were. Ice Cream Rick took my hesitation as a definite no and shook his head. 

“Never mind, I get it, i-i-it's a little creepy. You're clearly not into Rick's otherwise you'd be banging the one you already know, f-forget I asked.” He backpedaled. 

“No, hang on, I would like that.” I found myself saying, turning to face him head on, patting his forearm to get him to look at me. “You seem different to my Rick.” I added. 

“I should fucking hope so, that guy's a pretentious dick.” He exclaimed, I blew out a laugh before I could manage to stifle it. 

“He's not that bad.” I said quietly, though my words had little conviction. I turned my attention back to my ice cream, which was starting to melt and drip down my knuckles. There was no way of licking it away that wouldn't be seen as sexually suggestive, so I went ahead and did it anyway. 

“So, you're saying yes?” He asked, watching me intently as I licked the sticky melted mess from between my fingers as decently as possible. 

“Yes.” I nodded with a smile.

“I guess I'll b-be giving you this, then.” He said, picking up the bag from the floor and holding it out to me. I stared at it for a moment before looking him in the eye.

“You know you really don't have to. You really could make your money back and probably more if you sold it.” I said, and he gave me an unimpressed look.

“I-I-I really don't give a shit about the money. Like I said, I can make what I paid for it back in a day.” He shrugged, holding it closer to me.

“I can't except such an extravagant gift, you said it yourself, we barely know each other.” 

“I don't want it. It'll look better on you than me. Just t-take it off my hands, hell, sell it yourself if you want.” He placed it onto my lap and I stared down into the bag. 

“I wouldn't do that.” I shook my head. He opened his mouth to protest, thinking I was trying to give it back to him. “But thank you. That's very kind of you, Rick.” 

“Alright, well I expect to s-see you wearing it the next time I see you.” 

“Are you sure? I felt a little silly wearing it, do you really think it suits me?” I asked.

“Absolutely, baby. You can pull it off, I wouldn't have given it to you otherwise.” He said. I laughed.

“Thank you, I'll accept the compliment. Even if I don't fully believe you. You'd probably be able to pull it off better than me.”

“That's the plan.” He said. I looked up at him on confusion.

“Hmm?” I prompted, and he stared at me for a moment. When he didn't elaborate, I ran the conversation through my head again. It clicked. “Oh! Oh, wow. Okay.” I cleared my throat, feeling warm. 

“I'm joking.” He smirked. “Unless you're down with that?” He added. 

“Well, we'll just see how… how the date goes, shall we?” I smiled awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't notice how red I must be going. 

“You don't know how to respond to flirtatiousness, do you?” He asked, nothing but amusement written on his face. 

“Not really, no.” I admitted, shaking my head. 

“That's cute. As long as it doesn't make you uncomfortable.” He said, a serious edge to his voice. I appreciated his concern but shook my head. 

“Only in the sense that I wish I knew how to respond.” I laughed, focusing back on my ice cream now that I was down to the cone. It was full right down to the bottom, so I was careful not to spill any as I finished it off. It was delicious, better than the ice cream on earth. “This is really good, by the way. Is it a special recipe of some sort?” 

“Yeah, it's made using milk from… something other than a cow.” He said, averting his eyes. “I won't tell you what it is, just know that if you eat too much of it you'll go blind.” 

I paused mid chew, trying to see if he was joking. He smirked. 

“Don't worry. I-I didn't give you quite enough.” He assured me, and I swallowed the last bite carefully. Something grabbed Rick's attention behind me, and he held his hand up to wave at someone. “Morty, there you are.”

“S-s-sorry Rick. I got caught up in a crowd and couldn't get here any faster.” I heard a young voice say, and I turned to look at the kid approaching us. He looked like a pretty standard Morty, except he had a little more meat on his bones and was wearing an outfit similar to Rick's. 

“Don't worry, kid. Open up when you're ready.” Rick said, tossing something to Morty. It was a set of keys, I assumed to be for the ice cream truck. Morty missed them and ended up picking them up off the ground.

“I met- saw a bunch of Mortys dressed as the vindicators, Rick. I ha-had to get some pictures with them. I wish I'd have worn a costume.” Morty said, sounding a little glum towards the end. 

“Maybe next year. It'll be S-Summer's turn to help me with the truck.” Rick replied, smiling. It struck me how pleasant Rick was being to Morty. The few times I'd seen my Rick interact with his grandson over the past couple of weeks during his attempts to train me for the auction, he'd been a little mean and short with him. I'd chalked it down to stress at the time, but after being here and over hearing so many conversations between Mortys, I'd realised it was likely to be the norm. 

“C-can I make one for myself before I open?” Morty asked, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the truck. 

“Why not? J-just don't go stupid with the toppings like last time.” Rick said, rolling his eyes. Morty grinned and ran towards the ice cream truck, yelling his thanks on the way, promising not to go over the top. I couldn't help but smile at the exchange. “He will.” Rick said quietly, sighing as he watched his grandson. I chuckled. 

“He's cute.” I said, turning back to Rick. 

“Cute? N-not the word I'd use. But uh, he-he's a good kid.” He nodded, looking back at me with an amused smile. “Anyway, h-he's taking over for the rest of the day, so I'm gonna go check out some more of the con. You wanna join me, b-baby?” 

“Umm…” I started, checking my watch. I still had over an hour before I was meant to meet my Rick. “Sure.” I nodded, rising to my feet when he did. 

“I-is there anything you were planning on checking out? I saw a thing about cybernetic enhancements that seemed interested. That starts soon.” He said, walking by my side as we headed back inside. I gave him an unsure look.

“The uh… the sexual cybernetic enhancements one?” I asked. Rick laughed loudly.

“No, that one's not 'till later this evening. I-i-if you fancy sticking around for that one, I'm happy to accompany you. But th-this one is about standard stuff; bionic limbs, x-ray vision, artificial livers, that sort of thing.” He explained. 

“Oh right. Then we'll go and see the um, standard stuff.” I nodded, chuckling. 

On the way to the panel, we stopped to have a wander round a room full of stalls. I still had a lot of money left over from what Rick had given me and considering he hadn't mentioned any plans to pay me for my help this morning, I figured it was all I'd get and it couldn't be spent on earth. I thought I might as well spend it here, it was burning a hole in my pocket. I ended up purchasing a copy of an album by _The Flesh Curtains_ , which I'd learned was a band many Ricks were in at one point or another, including Ice Cream Rick. I also bought a button with Morty's face on to go with the Rick one I'd bought earlier, a onesie with a hood that looked like Rick's spiky hair (which was too cozy to pass up) and a plushie of what appeared to be a dog in a robot costume. Rick had picked up a few things too, mostly techy items and electrical components. He explained he was working on a new machine that could make ice cream twice as creamy and take longer to melt. He practiced science and inventing like most Ricks did, and everything in his truck he'd made himself. I found that quite impressive.

The cybernetic enhancement talk had been more interesting than I'd thought. I didn't get most of the scientific jargon that the four Ricks on stage had been using, but the demonstrations had been fascinating. I watched one of them extend his arm, which was made of metal, all the way across to the back of the room to turn the lights off in order to demonstrate another of the Rick's glow in the dark hands. I wondered why on Earth you'd want glow in the dark hands, but then I guessed they might be useful during power cuts…

At the end of the talk, Rick and I left the room and started heading back towards where the charity auction had taken place. I was running a little late, I was supposed to have met my Rick about ten minutes ago, but I was sure he would get over it. The time I'd spent with Ice Cream Rick had been pleasant, I found myself enjoying his company a hell of a lot more than my dimension’s Rick, and I was glad I'd agreed to see him again. When we reached the door to the dressing area, I was actually quite sad to be leaving. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me this afternoon. I felt a little weird being surrounded by so many of you guys, wandering around all on my own.” I said to him, fiddling with the wristband. “I suppose you'll want to make a note of this, if you'd still like to take me out to dinner.” I added hopefully, lifting my arm up to show him the dimension number, glowing neon around my wrist. 

“Nah, I hid a tracking device in your ice cream earlier on. I sh-should be able to find you pretty easily.” He told me with a shrug, his expression aloof. I stared at him for a while, letting my arm drop. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “I-I-I'm joking.” He said, and relief washed over me as he took my wrist gently in his hand and read the code. 

“You're uh, you're quite the jokester, aren't you?” I mused, smirking at him. 

“Yeah well, I don't drink so I've gotta find a coping mechanism somewhere.” He said dryly, but he was smiling as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and jotted my dimension code down on his forearm.

“You don't drink? From what I understand that's pretty rare for a Rick.” I said, raising my brows.

“You'd be right. There's a reason I sold out of rum and raisin before midday.” He chuckled, looking up at me from the wristband. He delayed letting go of my hand for just a split second too long, and my heart started racing. “But uh, alcohol’s bitter. I like the sweeter things in life.” 

His words made me shiver for some reason, he noticed this and chuckled as he finally let go of my hand and straightened up. 

“I'll leave you to find your Rick. As for our date, I'll get a message to you.” He said.

“How? You aren't ghosting me, are you?” I teased, but honestly, I was a little worried. I wanted to get to know him a little more, and I hoped I hadn't put him off somehow during the afternoon.

“Nah, baby. Ricks have their ways. You'll hear from me in a few days.” He grinned. 

“I look forward to it.” I nodded. 

“Let me just take ano-another look at that dimension code…” he said thoughtfully, and so I lifted my arm. He took it in his hand a pressed a quick kiss to the back of my hand, then winked at me. “I'll see you soon, baby.” he nodded at me, before heading off into the crowd, leaving to me swoon on my own. 

I took a moment to gather myself before entering the dressing area with a badly suppressed grin on my face. I turned the corner to see my Rick with his back to me, standing in front of a tall mirror, tightening up his tie. He caught my eye in the mirror and jumped slightly, and that's when I heard movement from the couch on the other side of the room. The stylist Rick who had done my hair earlier scrambled to his feet, it took my brain a full second to realise that he was stark naked and smoking a cigarette, I quickly turned away as he grabbed his clothes and dashed behind one of the dressing room screens.

“You're uh… you're a little late. I assumed you'd found something interesting and were going to be a while.” Tailor Rick said, clearing his throat as he turned to look at me. 

“I went to a panel and it took me a while to get over here.” I said distractedly, taking in the state of the room. One of the clothing racks by the sofa had been knocked over, and there was a broken glass on the floor, liquid was soaking into the carpet around it. The sofa itself was in a state of disarray, the throw pillows that had been neatly placed there earlier were scattered haphazardly, and some were on the floor. “How did your talk go?” I asked, feeling a heavy sense of awkwardness begin to descend. 

“Very well.” He simply nodded, walking towards me. “Have you had fun?” 

“Yes, thank you.” I nodded, my face breaking back into a smile. 

“Hmm, that smile looks like someone got their leg over.” He observed, and I raised a brow at him.

“Yes, well, someone did.” I said, giving him a pointed look. “It wasn't me, however.”

“We should get going. Miss the rush hour traffic.” He said, avoiding my eyes and walking past me. I smirked. 

“Traffic? I didn't realise there was traffic in space. Is there some other reason you’re so eager to bolt?” I teased him with a snicker, he looked over his shoulder to glare at me.

“Re-remind me to wipe your memory when we get back.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Slip Stitch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158188) by [PorkChop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorkChop/pseuds/PorkChop)




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